“Ah. There is the answer, and thus the reason for my request.” He turned to address Rafe, and his eyes flashed like sea glass in the sun. “It seems I must work harder to win her, since she apparently harbors an ill-advised and misplaced fascination for you.” As if Rafe was little better than the residents of the Dials.
Elizabeth bristled, but before she could find the words to a rebuttal, Rafe stepped forward, being sure not to step on the kitten.
He came into the marquess’ personal space, both men glaring. “You can try, Rockingham, but I refuse to back down simply because you think you are better for her than me.” Rafe glanced at her and one corner of his mouth tipped in a smile. At least there were no fangs present. Then he looked again at the marquess. “I refuse to exchange any more words with you. If you wish to settle this like men, you know where to find me, but until that time, I will continue to court Elizabeth. You must square with that.” Annoyance clearly stamped on his face, he stepped away and then gave her a half-bow, and his unbound hair swept along his shoulders. “I shall see you tomorrow, as per our earlier plans.”
Still tongue-tied, she nodded. Once the echo of his bootheels ceased ringing in the corridor beyond, she whirled to face the marquess. Her hand itched to slap his face for such high-handedness as well as the unneeded provocation. “That was not well done of you, Lord Rockingham,” she said, and her tone was decidedly chilly.
“Perhaps it was not.” Oliver reached for her hand but she snatched it away. He sighed. “The time is coming soon when you will have to make a choice, Elizabeth,” he said and annoyance clung to the statement. “Him or me, and I hope you choose wisely. Only one of us can give you the life you want, the life you deserve. Don’t let foolish ideals or memories that have no place color that choice. I shall take my own leave as well.”
She said nothing as he quit the parlor. The meeting between the men had completely ruined the earlier loveliness of the day. With a heaving chest and a tight throat, she made her way over to the chair where Rafe had sat. He’d left his outerwear behind, and now the kitten had curled up on the pile of his greatcoat.
Elizabeth scooped the purring cat into her hands and pressed a kiss to its fur—fur that now smelled like sandalwood and cinnamon. Both men had strong merits, yet they were as different as night and day. “What am I going to do?” she asked the feline, but, of course, Hope didn’t answer. “I do know one thing, I am glad you are a girl, for the males in my life are truly trying my patience.”
The kitten meowed in apparent agreement.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
December 14, 1815
Rafe shivered as he followed Griggs through Elizabeth’s townhouse, even though he knew the layout as well as his own. The cold rain outside would prevent him from taking her driving or from enjoying their customary walk through Hyde Park, but it wasn’t the location that made the difference. It was the time spent.
“I will tell Lady Elizabeth that you are here,” the butler intoned once he’d shown Rafe into the Gold Parlor.
“Thank you.” Once alone, Rafe paced about the space that had, until recently, been quite comfortable, but had become the scene of unpleasantness with the marquess. Gold brocade and crushed velvet cushions, supported by gilt-painted, delicate legs made up the furniture while all about the room, touches of feminine fripperies indicated a female beneath the duke’s roof. The duchess’ presence had truly infiltrated every aspect of life here.
On a table at a window, he paused and peered into a white-framed painting. It was a portrait of Elizabeth and Donovan, perhaps done several years ago, before Alice had entered their lives and changed everything. Rafe picked up the small likeness to better study it. The artist had captured the duke’s arresting features as well as the amber of his eyes, while he’d done decent justice to the gloss of Elizabeth’s hair and the depths of her brandy-hued eyes, but there was no sparkle there, no happiness. Neither were her lips curved with a smile.
How long had she hated him after that night when he’d lost control and allowed the beast to escape? Back then, he and Donovan had been fast friends. There’d been no tension between them, no animosity over Elizabeth.
If he eventually won the lady, he’d lose his best friend, but if Elizabeth chose the marquess, would Donovan welcome him back with open arms?
Why was everything so complicated?
With a frown, Rafe replaced the painting, and at the sound of rustling fabric at the door, he turned, expecting Elizabeth, but instead, Alice entered the parlor. “Your Grace. What a pleasant surprise.” Quickly, he crossed the room and took possession of her hands, bringing one to his lips. He kissed the back and was rewarded by a genuine smile that set her gray eyes dancing with amusement. “What brings you here?”
“Griggs told me that you’d arrived, so I thought I’d talk with you until Elizabeth comes down. She’s finishing a letter for me.” She linked their arms and led him to one of the settees. When she sat, so did he. “Elizabeth’s term as my social secretary will end soon.”
“Oh? Did you find a replacement?” He enjoyed talking with the duchess, for she was so genuine and without guile that it was a refreshing change.
“Can there ever be a replacement for Elizabeth?” She chuckled, and Rafe did too, for it was impossible. Alice bubbled with mirth and a positive air. “But yes. I have recently signed off on a wonderful young lady who I feel will fit into my staff.”
“I am happy for you.” He patted her hand and then pulled away. “Though, I wonder if Elizabeth will be. She adores her duties toward you.”
“She’s been a godsend. When I was first married, I wouldn’t have survived the daunting tasks without her help.” Alice turned her head toward him. The color had come back into her cheeks since he’d last seen her. “However, it is time she looked after her own affairs, I think.”
By the twinkle in her eye, Rafe assumed Elizabeth had informed her that he was attempting a courtship. “I quite agree.” Still, he wouldn’t mention it unless she did first.
“It is highly amusing that you and Elizabeth are conducting a clandestine affair right under Donovan’s nose.” Nothing in her demeanor suggested she made jest of him.
“Ah, I rather think it is not an affair,” he began, suddenly confused and more than a little wary. Had Elizabeth told the duchess of that night in her bedchamber? His cravat grew suddenly too tight, but he resisted the urge to tug at it. He rushed on as the rest of her words sank in. “Do you not have the same opinion as your husband?”
“Of course not.” Her peal of delighted laughter instantly lifted his mood. “I’ve wanted you and Elizabeth to make a match of it since I first met the two of you.” She touched his hand, for with her compromised sight, the duchess was often a very tactile person. “Are things moving along better in that quarter than they were?”
“It is difficult to say.” Rafe paused as his mind revisited his time with Elizabeth: the stolen kisses, the easy conversation, the budding romance. “Some days I am encouraged. On others, I am sent into the depths of despair again. Not to mention, I haven’t shown her the monster I can be. Once she sees that transformation, I fear any progress I have made will disappear.”
Surely I haven’t come this far to fail.
“You must be patient.” Conviction shadowed her eyes. “Love takes time and a healthy amount of hard work, especially when the subject is stubborn or skittish.”
Rafe nodded, but his heart remained unconvinced. “Do you think there’s a chance?”
Alice smiled. No wonder the duke had fallen for her. “There is always a chance in everything, Rogue.”
“Lizzy is… like nailing down a cloud. I wonder if it wouldn’t go better if she remained unattached.”
“I don’t believe that.” Alice squeezed his hand. She moved closer in an effort to peer into his face, which meant she wanted to see his eyes and expression and this was the only way. “You didn’t want a meek and mild woman, did you?”
Heat crept up his neck, as much
from her scrutiny as from her question. “No.” He flashed a grin. “Certainly not. I enjoy the challenge she represents.”
“I will say this.” Alice sat slightly back. “Elizabeth has been in a lovely mood these last few days. The worry has left her countenance. She hums while doing small tasks about the house. She has even thawed—slightly—toward Donovan.”
“Truly?” Rafe’s pulse accelerated. This was good news indeed.
“Yes.” Alice patted his hand. “Keep going. I know you will prevail.”
“Thank you.” He couldn’t help his grin. “You have the look of someone who has a secret, duchess.”
She laughed, and the sound tinkled through the air. “Donovan and I will make a rather delightful announcement at the ball,” she said in a low, secretive voice. Her eyes sparkled. “I do hope you will be in attendance.”
“I will.” Rafe gawked at her. He sucked in a breath as he suddenly knew. “You are increasing.” That would certainly account for being under the weather and pale.
“Yes.” She nodded, and somehow the duchess managed to convey complete joy in that one gesture. “The sickness has finally passed. I didn’t much like that part. The whole thing is wonderful, but I’m frightened by what it entails.”
“Because of the curse?” He couldn’t imagine himself in her place. To look forward to bearing a child but worrying if it were a male and having the curse put upon it from the moment of its birth.
“Partially that. Also, how can I be a good mother without my sight?” Lines of worry crinkled her ivory forehead.
This time he patted her hand. “The same way you conquer everything else in your life. You, my dear duchess, are quite the force.” Suddenly, he wanted that life with Elizabeth—the happiness, the contentment, the marriage, and the possible family.
“What a charmer you are.” She playfully swatted his shoulder. “Thank you.”
“It is the truth.” He tried to extricate his hand from hers, but she held tight.
“Donovan is beside himself with happiness,” she continued to confide.
Rafe huffed. “Yet he wishes to quell any joy I might find for myself.”
“Be patient with him too, Rogue.” Her expression sobered. “Life is constantly evolving for us all. You must learn to only plunge into those battles that will bring you the most change.”
Silence blanketed the room for long moments before Rafe spoke again. “Let me offer my congratulations to you. Because of your romance with Donovan, I have hope, and I won’t give it up unless Elizabeth sends me on my way.”
“I rather doubt she’ll do that,” Alice whispered with a wink. “Don’t give up on either of them. Friendship and love are too difficult to come by in this day and age. You deserve both.”
“I’m trying,” he said and the words felt pulled from him. “To win one I’ll lose the other. It’s a maddening proposition.” His chest was overly tight, and he shifted to alleviate the strain.
“Have faith.” She settled her free hand on her still-flat belly. A serene smile curved her lips. “Believe in yourself.”
He nodded. “Will you and Donovan break the curse at your ball? That is what gossip currently says.”
“We are undecided, for since our marriage, the curse has faded into the background of our lives.” She smoothly rose to her feet, taking him with her. “It simply… is, but it doesn’t complicate what we share. Whatever happens the night of the ball, happens, and both the duke and I will move forward together.”
“God, I wish I had your courage.” He forced a swallow into his tight throat. “I fear the only way I’ll win Elizabeth’s love is if I break the curse, yet in order to do that, she must love me.” He shook his head. “Which means I shall undoubtedly have neither.”
“Oh, hush.” She tugged at his hand. “Come. We are growing maudlin.”
“Where?” He didn’t feel like being force-fed holiday cheer if that was her intent.
“My music room. I wish to practice two songs I intend to play at the ball.”
For the second time that morning, Rafe gaped at the duchess. “You will play your harp at the ball. Does Donovan know?”
“Yes, he knows, and no, he cannot prevent me.” Her tinkling laughter filled the air as they left the parlor. “It is my prerogative.” She winked as she clung to his arm. “They are two waltzes I’ve memorized while waiting for the sickness to pass. I’ve already spoken to the musicians we’ve engaged, and Donovan will have my harp brought down.”
“You are a marvel.” She didn’t let opinions dictate her life. “I can learn much from you, Your Grace.”
Before Alice could respond, they met Elizabeth on the stairs.
When Lizzy arched an eyebrow, Rafe grinned. “The duchess has requested my presence in her music room. Would you like to accompany us?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” When Elizabeth smiled, Rafe’s world brightened. “I adore listening to Alice play. She truly has a gift.”
Rafe kept his own counsel as he escorted Alice to the music room. A collection of twelve, delicate, gilt-painted chairs were set out in three rows of four, all facing the stage, and the duchess navigated the room with ease. Once she settled upon a cushioned bench on a slightly raised stage at the front of the area, he smiled. “You do make a lovely picture.”
Alice plucked at the strings in a warm-up scale. Ethereal music filled the air. “You should practice your charm upon Elizabeth, for I am already taken, Rogue.” But her eyes twinkled.
He glanced at Elizabeth as she observed her sister-in-law. Clad in a day dress of brown wool with ivory lace at the bodice and hem, and her hair simply tied back with a brown ribbon, she looked as if she was an escaped woodland elf. “You made a lovely picture as well, Lizzy.”
“Thank you.” When she regarded him, her eyes reflected her smile.
“Where is your kitten?”
“Why, so you can charm her too?” she asked with a laugh.
“No, just curious.”
“When last I saw Hope, she was playing a game with my bedchamber draperies. Did you enthrall her yesterday?”
“Absolutely not. In fact, I’m not certain such a thing works on animals.” He couldn’t tell if she was genuinely shocked or amused.
“Then why did she go from hissing to playing with you so quickly? And, I saw your eyes glow.”
He snorted. “Perhaps the cat knew exactly who was a friend in that parlor.”
She sighed as Alice began to play in earnest. “This is one of my favorite waltzes, and it should be performed in the Viennese style.”
“Which is more intimate,” Rafe whispered.
“Yes.” Her response was propelled in a barely-there voice.
“By all means dance if you feel moved,” Alice interjected.
Rafe took a few steps backward. “I’m not certain we should.” Each time he danced with Elizabeth, he lost a piece of himself. That wasn’t something he wished to share with anyone else.
“How am I to know if I’m doing well?” the duchess responded. “It is good to practice with an audience. Besides, this room is a special place, and very much conducive to romance.”
“Never say you are practicing at matchmaking, Your Grace.”
Alice snorted. “Don’t you know it’s not polite to question a duchess’s order?”
“Duly chastised.” He looked again at Elizabeth. “And since the piece is Lizzy’s favorite…” He moved to the first chair and slid it to the wall. “As soon as we relocate these chairs I will indeed ask my lady to dance.”
A tiny sigh escaped Elizabeth. “Always so charming,” she murmured, and then she silently assisted him with moving the chairs to both sides of the room.
He kept his own counsel. If being a gentleman, showing her he was capable of being more than the monster she thought he was, so be it. Yet part of him mourned the fact that as soon as his fangs made an appearance, as soon as he acted anything less than a human, she would run and fear would once again shadow her face.
Would that circumstances were different or that courting Lizzy was as easy for him as it apparently was for Rockingham.
Once the task was complete, he moved to the middle of the cleared space and he held out a hand. “Elizabeth, may I have this dance?” he asked quietly, and his inquiry echoed in the sudden silence of the room.
Even Alice waited for the response.
“Of course.” Elizabeth slipped her fingers into his hand. Swiftly, he pulled her close and they assumed the proper position for a waltz.
“Whenever you are ready, duchess,” Rafe said, but the whole of his attention was on the woman in his arms.
When Alice plucked the strings of her harp and the exquisitely angelic notes of the song filled the room, Rafe set them into motion. Since the music room was much smaller in scale than a ballroom, the turns of the waltz were more precise, and to keep Elizabeth from crashing into the chairs jumbled at the sides of the room, he was obliged to hold her even closer. He rather enjoyed the intimacy, for instead of their held hands in an upward position, he’d encouraged her arm down so that they rested comfortably and chest level.
“How do you fair after yesterday’s contretemps?” he whispered.
“I am well.” A hint of a frown tugged at the corners of her mouth. “As much as I look forward to the future, I am worried.”
“Why?”
The delicate tendons of her neck worked with a hard swallow, and he drew his gaze to the smooth skin, discerned the beat of her pulse. His mouth watered, but he pushed the wants of his vampire self to the back of his mind. “What if my choice in men is ultimately the wrong one? No matter who I choose, one of you will be hurt, and I’m not certain I can bear that agony.”
Poor thing. He wanted to call her darling, to whisper endearments into her ear and tell her everything would come out right in the end, but he didn’t have the permission. Not yet. Instead, he squeezed her fingers and tightened his hold at her waist. “Do what you feel in your heart is correct. We cannot ask anything else of you.”
Bitten By the Earl (Lords of the Night Book Two) Page 18
